I Never Saw Him There
by Starlight Sanctuary
Summary: A little dream, nothing more. Just to sleep within your arms. How can it be -after all this time- it was you I did not see? ExE AU
1. A Higher Cause

I Never Saw Him There

Summary: A little dream, nothing more. Just to sleep within your arms. How can it be -after all this time- it was you I did not see?

Chapter 1: A Higher Cause

Another walk in the alley, watching those who have nothing left rot away in their sleep. You could smell the death in the air, the impurity, the sin. But who was she to think of sin? At least she hadn't been dumped onto the street yet. Though, it would only be a matter of time before father did something just as drastic.

She walked faster, keeping up a more confident pace. The thing about the alley is, the minute you look lost, you're done. As she turned a sharp corner, she found herself bumping into something hard, but somewhat warm. Startled, she quickly moved out of the way and proceeded to walk until-

"'Ponine, what are you doing out in the dead of night?" the voice was like poison to her ears. Though his face was ever the beauty, with his strong body, dark hair, piercing stare, he was the epitome of evil in her life: Montparnasse. He had grabbed her by the wrist, hard. Suddenly, she feared what should happen, but she kept up a confident act.

"Business, if you must know. You know how my father gets if I don't fin-" Eponine gasped as she was yanked and pressed against a wall. She felt as though the wind had been blown right out of her. She coughed in a frenzy, frantically trying to breath straight once more.

"Can't handle a little _play time,_ 'Ponine?" Montparnasse's voice was smooth, inviting almost. But Eponine knew better than that. She knew his game, and she wouldn't play by his rules.

"Please Parnasse, I just-" she was cut off by a hard pair of lips crashing into hers. Surely, she'd be bruised for a few days. She struggled to get him off of her, but he only tightened his grip. He pressed hard against her, making her aware of his intentions. Her eyes widened, she felt sick. The last time she'd been caught in this predicament, she was left indecent on the street for all to see her impurity. She cringed at the thought of it happening all over again. Just the thought made her eyes water slightly. She couldn't let it happen again. She wouldn't let it happen again.

Eponine had relaxed in his arms for a moment, had she finally given in, he had to wonder? He let his guard down ever so slightly. Perhaps for the first time she craved his touch too? That would be a first. After he'd taken her virginity, she'd been terribly uncooperative for months. He had to break her somehow. Was it finally being done? Was this all it would tak-

And just like, that she jabbed her knee into his erection, causing him extreme pain. He gasped, backing up slightly to hunch over from the pain. While he was distracted, she quickly kicked him down, which usually wouldn't have been possible for her. Perhaps there was a God on her side after all. She ran as fast as she could when she got away from him. She kept running and running. She wouldn't stop, not till she knew she was safe. If he had caught her, she knew the consequences would have left her on the brink of death. And her father might've done the final blow. Hell, he'd probably beat her himself when she gets home, but that wasn't the important part. She had a meeting to attend.

When she finally made it to door leading to the Cafe, she stopped to catch her breath. She clutched the note in the pocket of her coat. _Stupid Marius,_ she thought to herself,_ Making me do this so much for you. Can't you see how much it hurts?_ She sighed, he is too oblivious to ever notice. She reached for the knob of the door, but was startled when it opened suddenly. A figure stumbled out onto the stairs beside her. She noticed it as Grantaire, and a very drunk Grantaire at that.

"All I did was give her a little nudge...," he didn't seem to notice Eponine just standing in front of him. She was about to say something, but decided to just leave him to his thoughts. He probably wouldn't stay outside for long anyhow.

As she stepped into the ABC Cafe, she seemed to notice how the tables seemed more full tonight than they had been in a while. Was the revolution starting its kick off? She couldn't help but wonder.

She ghosted her way through the room, making her way to Marius, who, for a reason she couldn't fathom, was blushing madly. She bit her lip slightly and approached him, "I gave your letter to Cosette..." The moment she said her name, his attention shifted and his blush disappeared.

He stood then, a desperate look on his face, "My beloved? What has she said? Oh, I miss her so!" his words made her flinch slightly. She looked entirely uncomfortable, but he didn't even seem to notice. By then, the fuss seemed to die down, there was still chatter, but not nearly so loud.

Eponine glanced around in her peripherals, she could see a few staring at her. She stood up straighter, implying more confidence. She didn't like to be looked down upon, "Here..." she said, simply handing him the letter, "I... um..." she started, but stopped with a sigh, "Never mind, it was nice to see you Marius," she nodded to him and proceeded to take her leave. He was too concerned with that damn letter anyway.

"Mademoiselle, why are you in such a hurry?" It was a familiar voice who spoke then. When had Grantaire come back inside, she wondered? She looked over to Marius, who now looked shocked beyond believe, and then back to Graintaire. He seemed to know what she was gesturing at. She wondered how he always seemed like a sober kind of drunk... Coherent, yet not all at once, "You know you can do so much better than that blunt of a boy,"

To this, Eponine chuckled, "Monsieur, I appreciate the thought but-"

"Eponine, how could you let Marius push you around like that! You are not his slave you know!" This time it was Enjolras. She sighed, the man was ever so opinionated, "Make him deliver his own letters," he was always telling her to express her feelings to the boy, but she didn't think he'd understand. How could Enjolras understand that Marius meant everything to her? How would she bare it if he rejected her?

"Enji, don't mother me. I can take care of myself you know," she never did like when he went out of his way to try and give her advice, "Besides, if I just stand by him long enough maybe-"

"Maybe what? He'll love you back so suddenly? Even as he is declaring his love for another? 'Ponine, you need to be realistic," they were always having fights like this. What did he expect her to do? Just give up on the love of her life? He didn't understand! Marius was everything and more to her!

"Stop, Enjolras, I don't need to hear this right now. Can't you see I'm in enough pain?" She barked back, not loudly. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, which she was thankful for, "Why must you always attack me for my feelings?"

Enjolras let out a long sigh, "You know it isn't that. Marius is my friend, a close friend. How can you be so blind to his lack of feelings for you? It is you who is stopping yourself from getting over him! Isn't enough enough?" He looked frustrated enough just standing there, his tone was even more so, "There are plenty of men who'd love you if you gave them a chance."

"Yes, well, he hasn't pledged it to me yet, has he? Just because I'm a woman in your eyes, doesn't mean I'm any more than vermin in everyone else's," she walked turned away from him, "I should get going. If I don't get back soon... I'll see you around. Tell Marius if he wants me to do anything else, just to ask." she said, making her way to the door and out to the streets once more.

–

Grantaire stared at Enjolras curiously. He'd heard the entire conversation, considering he'd never left, "It would seem she is the blind one and you the hypocrite 'Enji'," he mimicked, "Perhaps you should take your own advice for once."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and clenched his fists, "Don't mock me, you know I wouldn't do that to her. Besides, my main concern is Patria. She needs me more than Eponine does... 'Ponine wouldn't even give a man another look, much less a man who probably doesn't have the capacity to feel the same. Besides, you know how hellbent she is on Pontmercy."

Grantaire laughed then, "But what if your dear Patria does not wish for your love? Then it will be all for nothing."

"Even if I died, at least I'd become a symbol of the very thing trying to save people like Eponine. It would never be for nothing," he had a dim smile. Grantaire was the only one who'd ever seen him vulnerable like this. For a cold, marble-statue-like man, Enjolras was more of a romantic than the others made him out to be.

–

_Damn it,_ she thought to herself as she walked home. The way Enjolras fought with her always made her irritated. She wished that he would take a hint that she didn't need help. She'd gotten along just fine for the seven-and-ten years she'd gotten along in the world, a broken heart couldn't possibly break her anymore than the rest of her world already had.

"Where have you been hiding, my Eponine? I began to worry when you ran off," a familiar voice called. She felt her breath catch in her throat. She knew she was in for a long night.

* * *

Well, this is my first Les Mis fic. I never expected to write one, but well... here we are. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, there will be more to come later with... other twists of fate. ;D Stay tuned!


	2. Blind

Chapter 2: Blind

After a night of being verbally abused, raped, and beaten, Eponine found herself once more in the middle of the street. She wasn't as surprised as she had been last time. At least this time 'Parnasse was kind enough to leave her with some clothing on. She sat up, cringing and gasping as her entire body screamed in pain. But even as she sat up, it wasn't as if anyone stopped to ask if she were okay. Out here, it is everyone for themselves. As she finally willed herself to stand, she felt her knees nearly give in. She pressed her back against the wall behind her, trying to help herself keep balance. She took a look at the damage, trying to asses just how bad it was this time.

As she looked down to her tattered clothing, she could see blotches of blood and dirt from where she'd been cut. Looking at her arms, she realized that she had to have been covered in bruises. She bit her lip, but found even doing that hurt. How could Marius ever look away from Cosette with her looking like a rotting corpse.

She let out a groan of pain, still trying to will herself to move from her standing spot, but not much to her avail. Even the hunger in her belly seemed miniscule to the pain she felt then. She knew if she went home, father would be waiting just to finish the job 'Parnasse never did. She felt water begin to build in her eyes, but she didn't dare let it out. She closed her eyes tight and slumped to the ground. Standing just worsened the pain. She took deep breaths. ...Was she dying?

–

Joly had been on his way to visit his patient, Emile, who resided in the far corner of town. He wasn't afraid of the streets to be honest, after all, he'd be raised around it and played in it his whole life. The streets seemed as usual as ever, just the usual busy-walk of the ones trying to get out of this part of town and the lingering stench of decay. As he walked, he couldn't help but notice what looked like a teenage boy huddled against a wall. His clothing seemed strange though. His coat was well in order, but it nearly looked like he wasn't wearing any pants. As he looked, he caught the appearance of blood and bruises upon the boy's arms. He rushed over, "_Monsieur, est-ce que vous êtes blessé_?" he called, worried for the boy's condition. It was then he realized that it wasn't a boy at all.

Eponine, hazy in vision, looked up to the man addressing her, "J-Joly?" she coughed and closed her eyes tight. She was in so much pain, she couldn't even move.

"Ep..." he couldn't speak her name, he just knew he had to do something fast. He looked around and was suddenly glad of where he was. She was just a short walk from the Cafe. He wondered if she'd been here the whole night. "I'm going to pick you up and bring you to the Cafe for medical assistance," he said quickly, beginning to pick her up. As he tried to do so, he found that she was only cringing in more pain. Surely she'd broken more than just a few ribs. He tried to hold her as best he could, bringing her into the Cafe as quickly and without incident as he could. For all he knew, she could be dying, "I need a bed, Ethel! Please tell me you have a room available," he asked frantically, still holding Eponine in his arms. He could feel something wet seeping through his sleeves.

It was no more than a minute before he was able to set Eponine up on a bed. He felt bad at first for having to do so, but he had to see the damage. As he opened up her jacket, he saw that she had bruises everywhere. That was an understatement. She was bleeding profusely, had intense bruises... She looked like she was raped and beaten. Ethel had been kind enough to set him up with all he'd need to begin to work on her, but he wondered if that would be enough.

–

The day went by so quickly, but something felt... strange? No, not strange. Perhaps worrisome. After all, though he'd been walking the streets all day, Enjolras had yet to find any sign of Eponine. He felt as though he needed to apologize for what he'd said the night before. After all, with the slow progression of the revolution, he needed to keep guilt off his slate. If he died, he didn't want to die caged by his emotions.

As he continued on his search, he noticed Gavroche walking with Grantaire. It wasn't much of a surprise to him, truly, Gavroche was the little brother Grantaire had always wanted. He approached them, "Grantaire, have you seen Eponine today?"

Grantaire was about to speak, but then Gavroche spoke up first, "Knowing father, she's in trouble. She isn't allowed to go home without any sous to offer. Plus... Mr. Parnasse has been rather mean to her lately."

Enjolras was stunned, "Knowing...? Gavroche, are you related to Miss. Eponine?"

"_Elle est mon soeur_! Didn't she ever tell you?" the little boy looked up in wonder, as if everyone should know such a basic fact.

"Enjolras!" a voice came from the distance. It sounded frantic, he soon recognized it as Joly. Why was he running around here? Didn't he have patients to care for at this time before heading toward the Cafe? "E-epo..." he coughed, needing to catch his breath before he could speak, "Eponine is"

Enjolras blinked, what was Joly trying to tell him? "Eponine? What is wrong? Why were you running?" all of this excitement was making him even more unsettled than he was, "Joly?"

"She's badly injured, I," Joly took a deep breath, "I patched her up as best as I could. She keeps asking for Marius, but I can't find him anywhere."

Suddenly, he was angry. Didn't she realize by now she was only being used to help him get to Cosette? "Where is she?" he asked. If Marius wasn't going to be there for her, then damn it, he would be.

Joly seemed surprised by Enjolras' anger. He hadn't known of the extent of his relationship with the street urchin, other than that they were friends. "I took her back to the Cafe. You might not want to see her she's-"

Before Joly could say another word, Enjolras was already running towards the Cafe. He felt like an idiot. Why was it he always went back to her side even when she so plainly didn't want it? He groaned at himself,_ Because you care about her,_ he thought to himself. He wouldn't dare to even imagine loving her. No, he loved his Patria. He didn't have time for loving another, not when Patria needed him most. But he'd be there for Eponine... _Damn that bastard, Marius._ He couldn't help but mutter over and over again in his mind.

As he made it into the Cafe, he couldn't help but over stress about Eponine's condition. _What if she was dying? No, if she was dying, Joly would have said so. He just said she was injured. How injured though?_ He made his way to Ethel, she pointed him in the direction of Eponine's room. He took a deep breath before entering. He wasn't expecting the greeting he got.

"Marius! Marius, I knew you'd come! I was afraid I'd be dead before-" Eponine stopped immediately upon seeing the face of her greeter, "Oh... Enjolras... where...? Where is Marius?"

His breathing hitched upon seeing Eponine. She was bruised from head to toe, had a bloody lip, that seemed to have been cleaned, she had so many bandages wrapped about her. One could almost think she was entirely covered. He would have sweetly greeted her. He would have asked what happened. He would have held her in his arms and cried for her pain. He would have... if she had even seen what he'd done for her in his coming here.

"Are you blind? Marius? You are looking for Marius?!" his voice was loud, angry. More enraged than he even thought was possible, "I run, legitimately run, half way across town to make sure you are all right, and all you have to ask is...?! Marius?! Can't you see that he doesn't care?! Can't you see that he won't ever care? What will it take to make you realize that? What will it take to make you realize that he will never love you?" He stormed out then, slamming the door behind him. Eponine's face had been so surprised, shocked. He'd never raised his voice like that to anyone.

He paced around the hall, trying to relax, but found it only made him angrier. He leaned against the wall, he hadn't realized until he put his hands to his face that he was crying as well. _This,_ he thought to himself, _is why I don't get involved with women._

–

Eponine sat in shock. She couldn't tell how long she sat there, but it was long enough that she felt a huge pain in her stomach. At first, she just thought it was her injuries, but then she realized that it was an emotional pain.

"He... came here for me?" she whispered to herself, "Why?" and why hadn't Marius?_ He doesn't care about you!_ she could hear Enjolras' voice ringing in her ears. _He will never love you!_ "Of course he will... he just needs time to get over his obsession for Cosette... then he will come crawling back to me. Right?" She let out a long sigh, realizing just how delusional that sounded. _Why was he always right? And, why do I feel so terrible about upsetting Enji like that?_

_..._

* * *

Well, that was Chapter 2. I didn't expect to have it out so fast, but these reviews were so... refreshing! I suppose that is to say, the more reviews the quicker I write :) One has to wonder just how far this naivety of Eponine's will extend. She is nearly as bad as Marius. Well, hope you enjoyed! I'll continue writing. Perhaps you'll see another update tomorrow or the day after if you are lucky. ;D

*_Monsieur, est-ce que vous êtes blessé (Sir, are you hurt?)_

_*Elle est Mon Soeur! (she is my sister!)_


	3. In Your Arms

Chapter 3: In Your Arms

It had been an entire day, but no one besides Joly had come to see Eponine. She felt so helpless laying on that damn bed. She felt vulnerable. She didn't like the idea of anyone else taking care of her but herself.

As she sat up in the bed, she thought about Enjolras. She wondered why he'd been so angry that she'd asked for Marius. She knew that Enji cared about her, at least a little. He probably did so in a brotherly way though. It was a bit of a shame... he was pretty handsome after all, with his angular face, deep blue, almond-shaped eyes. The way his lips pursed together when he was angry-_ whoa! No. Ewe. That's Enjolras you're thinking about! And he is no where near as handsome as Marius. Never as handsome as Marius._

But still, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever forgive her for... what ever it was she did or said. Sure, she and Enjolras got into arguments regularly, especially when he would question her style of living (as if she had a choice), but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy his company.

She sighed and decided to work on getting herself to move about. She hung her legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand. It was hard at first, but after the first twelve or thirteen tries and falling back onto the bed, she was able to stand. She continued working with this for about an hour. She started in small increments, standing for a few minutes. Then she tried walking around. Slowly, she was coping with the pain. It was slowly becoming bearable.

"'Ponine, what are you doing walking about?" a voice called from the direction of the door, "You'll rip open your bandages," It was Marius at the door. Instead of feeling happy, however, she was... seething.

"I've been laying in this bed for two days. Where have you been?" Eponine barked at him. Her entire body radiated rage. Never before had she felt so... betrayed. He had betrayed her. /But he was never yours to begin with/ that realization came to her mind.

Marius was startled, most likely wearing the same expression she wore when Enjolras had yelled at her, "'Ponine, I don't have any idea what you are talking about," his eyes looked sad, "I only found out this morning that you were-"

"This morning?" Eponine growled, "You knew this morning that I've been beaten to the point that I can't walk very well, to the point that I get dizzy if I focus on something for too long, to the point where I have nearly lost faith in humanity, and you didn't even come to see me until hours and hours later?" she clenched her fists, trying to keep from clenching her torso at all to avoid more injury, "Get out. Sortez d'ici!"

With that, Marius turned, but not before looking back momentarily, "Je suis désolé, Eponine," he turned and left. That would be the second time in the past few hours that she has driven someone out. Why can't she do anything right for once?

–

Enjolras had been irritable all day. It seems not even the sleep helped to ease his anger toward Eponine's ignorance. He didn't want to forgive her, but at the same time... There was something about her that couldn't keep him mad at her. No, he'd turn his anger towards an emotion she'd feel or he'd turn his anger towards himself for being so callous and short-tempered. He could already feel an apology brewing in his gut. The guilt was already so heavy.

He had slept at the Cafe that night, finding that he had no energy to actually leave. But, he was also worried about Eponine. What if her condition worsened? Well, you'd have to go see, then, wouldn't you? He thought to himself and bitterly sighed. He didn't want to see her. Not until she realized what she'd done.

He stared down to the book in his hands, Le Conte de Deux Cités, wondering just what age they had dawned upon since the first revolution. _Est-ce que c__'était le meilleur des te__mps ou c'était le pire des temps_? Truthfully, he already knew the answer. He wished for the former. He wished it could be possible. He'd never admit it to anyone else, but sometimes he wondered just how much his revolution would do for his Patria. If he couldn't even help Eponine see past her own ignorance, then how could he expect to help a country see their own folly?

_"Any one who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eye are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers this when he sees any one whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of man has come out of the brighter life, and is unable to see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light. And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other...*" _

But fancy words and psychology won't help you win a war. No, you need cunning, you need support from the majority. You need... faith. He needed to place more faith in those he fought for. For people like Eponine. _/No,/_ his mind wandered, _/you fight for Eponine./_ He sighed, knowing just how true it was.

He looked around the main bar area. People were slowly filling in. Would he speak more tonight? Surely he would, after all, it was his revolution. Perhaps it would ease his nerves if he could speak to Eponine. Maybe he'd be less distracted by his guilt. As he made his way to her room, he could hear yelling.

"Where were you?" He could make out the shouts easily, but not so much the responces, "This morning? You knew this morning that I've been beaten to the point," he couldn't hear some of the words then. They seemed muffled or said in a way that is trying not to be too loud. But then the volume picked up, "to the point where I have nearly lost faith in humanity, and you didn't even come to see me until hours and hours later? Get out. Sortez d'ici!"

He was surprised when he saw Marius stumble out of Eponine's room. Marius looks to Enjolras and shakes his head, "I don't know what is going on with her,"

To this, Enjolras sneered. Even though Pontmercy was a good friend, he would do certain things that would get on his nerves. The main one was his treatment of Eponine, "If you cannot tell, then you are truly blind. It is a pity," he clenched his teeth, "She waited for over two days for you. You were too busy frilling about with your little Colette,"

"Her name is-"

"I don't care what her name is. It would suit you best to stay away from Eponine for a while. In fact, I don't want you near her for a long while. All you do is cause her anguish." Enjolras hadn't expected to be so blunt and up front with Pontmercy, but he was.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you fancied the girl." Marius responded, confused as to why everyone had been attacking him today.

"Maybe I do, but it doesn't change the fact that you have been causing more harm than good. You are so lovesick that you can't even see how your actions are affecting others. If you can't shape up, I don't even want you at meetings," Enjolras paused, "Of course, you are always permitted to come, but _/I/_ won't see you as fit to be an intellectual source."

Marius was about to say something, but just stopped, deeming it useless. After all, you can't rival Enjolras' ability to debate. He'd beat you instantly. The man truly had a gift with words... most of the time. His words today had been a bit rash, selfish even. But, it wouldn't impede his ability to argue an issue.

Walking past Marius and to Eponine's room. He thought he could hear sobbing coming from inside. He was unsure then. Perhaps it would be better to let her sort out her own problems. But at the same time, wasn't it better to deal with problems in the comfort of another?

He sucked in a deep breath of air before turning the knob to the door. If he hadn't done it then, he was sure he would have just walked away. As he cracked the door open, the sobs had ceased. A voice suddenly yelled at him, "I told you to go away! Just go away..."

She was a mess, he could hear it in her voice. His strong, proud Eponine sounded to be in so much pain. He shook his head,_ She is not yours_, he had to remind himself. He spoke up then, "It is just me, Enjolras," her voice stopped again, "May I come-"

"Are you going to argue with me again? Are you going to rub it in my face?" her voice was soft, scared almost.

He opened the door to the room and stepped inside, "No." as he took a look at her, he noticed how flushed her cheeks were. Her eyes and cheeks glistened with fresh tears and her nose seemed to have been running. Added with her slowly fading bruises, she looked terrible. He walked over to her bed where she'd gone back to since her fight with Marius, and sat on the edge by her side, "I wanted to apolo-"

"Please don't apologize. You were right. You were always right and I," her eyes seemed to get puffy again, "I was so blinded." another tear fell down her face as she looked down to the bed covers, "He was all I had..."

Taking a bold move, he put an arm around her then and leaned her against him, "That isn't true. You still have me, remember?" he ran his fingers through her tangled hair, trying to comfort her. It all felt strange. After all, it was such foreign ground to him.

"I wish I had fallen in love with you. At least you would've had the decency not to lead me on,"

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn't know how to respond to that. So instead, he just held her. He hadn't known how long he did so, but before long, she was sleeping in his arms. He hadn't realized it until then, but this is what he'd wanted all along. And if he could destroy the shackles that bound them, perhaps he could fall in love with her. We can't have Patria getting jealous, he could hear Eponine's voice in his mind. He smiled then and before long, he found himself dosing off as well. ll, it was such foreign ground for him.

* * *

I was writing this chapter today in Music Theory. Haaa And now it is done. I didn't expect to get this chapter out till tonight, but those follows and reviews have really gotten me going. So, I hope you enjoyed. I will be studying for exams, so I may or may not finish the next chapter before Sunday, buuuutt, then again, with me you never know ;D Have a nice weekend!

Disclaimer: I obnoviously down own Les Mis. If I did, then... my French would be muuuuuch better and it wouldn't have been amazing as it actually is.

Update: Forgot to write what the French means!

Sortez d'ici - (Get out of here)

Je suis désolé - (I am sorry [it is a more meaningful sorry])

Le Conte de Deux Cités (Tale of Two Cities)

_Est-ce que c__'était le meilleur des te__mps ou c'était le pire des temps_? (Is it the "best of times" or the "worst of times"? Reference to the first quote within Tale of Two Cities.)


	4. Papa

Chapter 4: Papa

**Note: Just before this chapter begins, I wanted to make a note about what the time line is in this story. For the most part, I'm making it AU. Right now, the June Rebellion is a ways away. In fact, right now, it is currently early March. I did this, because I wanted to give some time for Enjolras and Eponine to develop their already blossoming relationship. And just a hint for later, when the rebellion does come along, what do you think would actually happen with these changing relationships? You'll find out later, but it is something to think about. Ever the lover's question: _What if we had more time?_**

_There was a time when men were kind, when their voices were soft and their words inviting. There was a time when love was blind, and the world was a song, and the song was exciting. There was a time... then it all when wrong. A distant voice seemed to half sing in a somber tone off in the distance. It was like a flashback. Where am I? What is the date?_

"_Papa! Papa! Can I with you go? I do not like when you leave" A little, unrestful girl with beautiful brown locks said, running up to grab her father's coat, "S'il vous plaît? S'il vous plaît?" She was a little daddy's girl. So nonchalant, happy. Was that me?_

"_My little Eppie, non, I have to do business outside of town. Your Mama wouldn't like if you came to that side" Her father seemed so much younger and on top of that, more caring. _

"_We don't have to tell her. Like last time, 'member? s'il vous plaît, papa?" the girl was stubborn and insistent. It would seem that nothing has changed._

"_All right," her father paused, "But 'member. We don't tell Mama" he said and then scooped the girl up in his arms. They laughed happily as the little girl rested on his shoulder. _

_The scene changed suddenly_

"_Mais, Papa... I don't want to," the preteen girl was in tears, "What if I get caught? What if they kill me?" she was stifling a sob, "Please don't make me,"_

"_Damn it, Eponine," the older man slapped the girl, "Get a hold of yourself. We need the money!" the girl screeched, scared. _

_Another scene change_

"_What are you doing, girl?" it was a guardsman that they were going to be stealing from. She wasn't supposed to get caught. It wasn't in the plan. She was never supposed to get caught. _

_But things change._

"_What do you mean you failed the robbery?" her con-artist of a father had yelled. She could already feel the pain her father would inflict. But this time, it wasn't just her father. This time it would be the entire gang. This was, after all, the whole gang's heist. And she ruined it. All by getting caught. _

_I remember waking up that next morning. I was nearly dead from the bleeding. I miss my papa... but I hate my father. _

Eponine woke in a gasp, her eyes slightly wet with tears. Had she been crying? She blinked then, trying to remember what she dreamed about that made her so upset. She couldn't remember. Instead of worrying about it, she took a deep breath and tried to go back to sleep, it was then she realized that there was an extra warmth she hadn't felt before in the other two nights she'd stayed here. Turning her attention to find the source of the warmth, she was startled to see another face sleeping soundly next to her. Though, 'next to her' is an understatement. She was sure that before she'd moved from waking that they had been entwined into each other the entire night. The thought made her cheeks flush.

But how did he get here? It took her a minute to recall the night before's events. Her eyes became a little sad. Suddenly she felt an arm gently pull her closer. It would seem that even in his sleep, Enjolras was still trying to comfort her, whether he realized it or not. Her head was rested by his neck and she could feel one arm draped about her waist and the other by her hair. For the sake of making herself comfortable and not waking him up all at once, she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was the closest she'd ever gotten to a full embrace from anyone. She might as well enjoy it, right?

–

Joly had finished making his rounds to his important patients, but his mind was stuck on Eponine. The poor girl, he thought to himself, a beautiful woman, no doubt, under all those rags and bruises. He was surprised that Marius hadn't ever noticed her that way. But, then again, Marius was vain. It was no surprise that he'd fall in love with an 'angel' looking bourgeoisie. Eponine just never gets a break, does she?

It was then that Joly laughed at himself. Did he have a pitiful crush on the little gamin? He shook his head as he headed toward the Cafe. He'd check up on Eponine and then head back home to study for his classes. After all, even with the revolution, one couldn't just skip out on their educational duties.

As he entered the Cafe, he was greeted by Grantaire who, for the first time in a long while, was quite sober. Though, his goofy grin made him look like he was, "Grantaire, you are here awfully early this morning. It isn't even 11 o'clock"

"Yes, well, you know me. I like to get a little swig on early," he had a drink, but it wasn't his usual alcoholic one, "Today, however, I've decided to do a little investigating. It requires my being in a more... non revealing state of mind."

"Very cryptic," Joly laughed, "What are you investigating, my friend?"

"Take a look in our little Gamin Princess' room," Grantaire was grinning, "I do believe we can do something wonderful for our Marble Prince,"

Joly raised an eyebrow and then walked around the corner toward Eponine's room. He wondered what Enjolras had to do with Eponine. As he crossed over to the room, he had a little feeling then that he knew what Grantaire was talking about. How long had they worked on getting a princess for their prince? Truthfully, if Grantaire really did think they had a shot of it working this time, then perhaps it had a shot.

A smile spread across his face as he peered into the room. Though he was slightly concerned with the intimate position they were both in, simply for the sake of her injuries, this showed... progress. Has the marble finally cracked? Is there a real boy underneath?

He cleared his throat a little, figuring they couldn't be too deep in their sleep for this late in the morning, "Enjolras didn't you have class this morning?" apparently the mention of classes made Enjolras stir.

–

Enjolras felt like he heard his name being called in his sleep. That wasn't all he heard. He heard.._. lass? Class? CLASS?!_ His eyes opened quickly, feeling a drop in his stomach. He was supposed to have a philosophy class this morning. He would have moved, but for some reason, he felt... heavy? Warm? What happened last night?

He felt his entire body flush as he realized just where he was, who was on top of him, and just what it all looked like. He turned his head toward the door to see who was calling him. When he saw Joly there, he sighed with relief. Had it been Grantaire or Combeferre... Hell, had it been Prouvaire, he's sure there would be poetry and songs written about it by the next morning, "This..." he started, not entirely sure what to say, "Isn't exactly what it looks like."

Joly chuckled, "Believe me, I can tell," he walked over just to take a glance at Eponine's arms, "The bruises are healing fast. I'm surprised. Had either of us sustained wounds like that, we'd have surely been bruised for weeks. It must be a learned, bodily technique that God has blessed her with. She was well prepared for the life she was forced to live." Joly took notice to the fact that Enjolras wasn't trying to move to change the position, "Do you fancy the girl?" he asked curiously.

Enjolras made a face, "Why do people keep asking me that? First Pontmercy, now you? She needed comforting last night, so I comforted her... and we fell asleep. Is that so hard to guess?" he was beet-red when he finished and wouldn't look in Joly's eyes. Joly took that more so as, 'Yes, I fancy her. Don't mock me. I didn't do this on purpose, it just happened.'. Enjolras was very readable when he was taken by surprise.

"Well, I need to change the dressings on her wounds, so," he paused for a moment, "You may have the honor of waking her."

Enjolras was really hoping to avoid all of this. In fact, he hadn't even planned on falling asleep. He sighed, _The things I get into when I least expect it_. He looked to Eponine, who seemed so peaceful as she slept. It was a bit heart wrenching to have to wake her up, "Eponine," he called sweetly to her. He hadn't expected it to come out like that. It was supposed to just be softer, rather than waking her up with a loud voice, "Joly has to change the dressings on your wounds."

"Shhhh Enji," she spoke into his neck, which caused him to shiver a little, "_Cinq minutes, s'il t'plaît_" she was very informal. If it had been anyone else, he would have been a little annoyed or offended, but with Eponine... it was fine... he supposed.

"'Ponine, it is nearly the afternoon. It is time to get up," his voice was more stern this time. If it was sweet again, he was sure he wouldn't hear the end of it from even Joly. He was getting a head ache from all of it.

Eponine sat up then and looked up to see Joly. She made a face then, "Oh. _Bon matin,_ monsieur Joly" she said taking a moment to readjust herself. Afterwards, Joly went over to take a look at her healing wounds. They looked good for only having been inflicted a few days prior. This woman could probably survive through a hail of stab wounds and probably still survive. It takes more than a few broken bones to kill this girl.

After he redressed the wounds, Joly smiled at Eponine, "They look good. At this rate, you should be in decent shape in about a week. Though your ribs, you need to be careful of. I thought they'd been broken, but it would seem they are more bruised than anything else. A broken rib would be much more painful," he chuckled. The thing about Joly was that he was just so... happy? He always seemed to make a room feel a little bit less dire.

Eponine bit her lip slightly, "M-merci. I'll try to be careful as not to make it worse, though... with me you never really know" she chuckled a little bit, but doing so hurt. She seemed distant and had been contemplative about her current situation since the moment Joly began fixing her bandages. She began to think of what must have been happening at home in her absence. Surely, father must be searching for her. Montparnasse would be concerned – well, as concerned as a man like him can get about an 'object'. Mother... she wouldn't care. She had stopped caring the minute their inn business went to shambles and they became beggars on the streets.

"Eponine," the voice woke her from her own thoughts, "I have a class to attend to very soon, but I will be back as soon as it is over. Perhaps we can go get something to eat when I get back. After all, you look so restless sitting in that bed," it was Enjolras. Was the man actually taking time out of his schedule to just spend time with her? Time that he could be spending on the plans for his dear revolution or even just reading a book? It was practically unheard of.

"Sure," she paused for a moment, trying to decide her wording, "That sounds wonderful," she was always trying to build up that vocabulary of hers. If she could use larger words, it meant that eventually she might be able to work up to a higher class or perhaps get a decent education. It meant, to her, that she wasn't hopeless.

–

It was no more than an hour after Enjolras left that Eponine had a nagging feeling in her gut. It was too quiet around the room. Of course, she found that these past few days had been nothing but quiet. It made her overly contemplative, analytical. It was annoying.

It was then she heard a noise from the corner of the room. She could have sworn the window budged a little. Did it? She wasn't sure. She sighed a little as she paced around the room. She felt better to have gotten out of the bed. She wanted to, after all, get out and about and eventually get back to where she was.

Another thought occurred to her: Who was paying for all of this? She flushed then, feeling pitiful. Was Joly paying for the bed for her to sleep on? For the medical supplies? She felt a little ill just thinking about it. She didn't need all of that. She didn't need people spending their money on her and her well being. There was a reason she was a street-rat.

"This is as quiet as I've heard you be in a long while," the voice was grumbly, annoyed, almost fierce. She felt her body seize in a panic. Why is it that when ever she was alone, someone would find her?

Eponine turned, coming face to face with non other than her father, "What would you know?" she was trying to be confident. If she let any of it falter, he'd immediately use it against her.

"You haven't been home in nearly three days. You know, we worry-"

"Worry? You don't worry about me. You want something from me. And if you need to know, I don't have it," she paused, "I know what you've been searching for and I know that you think that I'd know how to get to it," she took a deep breath, "I'm not betraying my friends in order to better you and your alcoholism"

"Look at you flaunting your fancy words. Are you trying that hard to fit in?" Mr. Thenardier took a step closer to her, "Are you sure you want to be disrespecting me right now? Even when I can take your life from you so easily?"

"You won't... You always need me," she retorted, but was suddenly scared. If she endured another beating so soon, she wasn't sure what would happen. Her beatings were usually spaced out by at least a week. She had had no time to heal. What if...? What if...?

She backed up then, "You need to go. I'll be back home soon."

"You'll be back home now, even if I have to drag you by your hair," he reached forward to grab her. The struggle began.

"If you touch me, I'll scream," she dodged his advances and was using the bed as cover, "I'll do it"

"If you scream, you'll regret it for a year,"

"Try me," she rasped out as she backed up. She kept trying to keep her space open, never backing into a wall. She feared what would happen the minute he got a hold of her. But he kept getting closer. She was so close to being caught. She made a slip. A simple slip and she found herself face-first on the floor. She could hardly say a word, she was in agonizing pain. _Damn these wounds_, she thought to herself.

"I've got you now," her father said as he began to grab her wrist to pull her up. She did the only thing she could do. She screamed as loud as she could, hoping that someone, _anyone_ would try to help her.

To be continued...

* * *

Starlight Sanctuary: Ooo That's a little bit of a cliff hanger. So, who should save her? Should she get saved? What do you guys think? I'd love some opinion. ;D

French sentences used:

_s'il vous plaît (Please)_

___Cinq minutes, s'il t'plaît (Five minutes, please): _There is a large significance in her phrasing. In France, it is rude to use Tu instead of Vous to address someone you aren't either related to, in the same age group as you, or who hasn't told you specifically to do so. Some people don't actually mind it, but I've noticed during my time there that a lot of adults in our era mind it, so I can only imagine what it would be like back during this era. By Enjolras being perfectly fine with it, it establishes a mood that says 'hey, we are close enough that you can be informal with me.' It is a huge step in the right direction. Just felt the need to point that out.

_Bon matin: _Good Morning. This is a debatable phrase, but honestly, I use it all the time and so do many of my French friends. Though, it is more common to hear salut, which is the equivalent to "hi", but I wouldn't see Eponine and Joly being that close, so being informal to him would be a little rude.


	5. Je pense que je peux t'adore

Chapter 5: Je pense que je peux t'adore

It had been a long hour and a half of class. As much as he loved his public speaking class, there was something about the day that made him feel... as if something were wrong. He felt he should be sitting by her side. He felt as though he should be protecting her. But she is safe, he thought, the cafe wouldn't give the location of Eponine away to anyone that isn't part of the L'amis.

He sighed a little, for he couldn't help but feel as though the longer he was away the more he wished he had just skipped classes for the day. Though he knew it was unrealistic and he'd never do it purposefully, he wondered what he could have been doing with this day instead. He could be reading a good book, perhaps scolding Grantaire for his excessive drinking, or writing a great speech to rally up new comers for their cause. But in the back of his mind, once more, a nagging instinct. He could only hope it was just his imagination.

–

There was a loud scream. And if he weren't so drunk, he might have responded to it a little faster. At first, he was confused as to where it came from. But his mind nearly sobered as he realized it was the scream of Eponine.

Grantaire managed to stumble wildly to the girl's room. It was as if his life depended on it. He couldn't imagine what terrible torture he'd endure from Enjolras if he let anything happen to Eponine. As he raced into her room, he found her on the floor, trying to get away from a strange man. Instinctively, Grantaire pulled the man away from Eponine and picked him up by the collar.

The man seemed malnourished, much in the same way as Eponine was. He even held some of the same features as her, though he was certainly not a very pretty sight like she was, "Get out of here," were the only words Grantaire could really form for the situation, "Before I hurt you," his eyes were dark, determined, while the man he grabbed looked like a sorry mouse. While he scurried out of the room, Grantaire tried to help Eponine back to the bed, "Why do you always find yourself in trouble?"

"I ask myself the same question every day," she said bluntly, holding her stomach and closing her eyes. If only she knew what to do to make all the pain stop. She wondered what it would feel like for once to just feel pain-free. Did such a thing exist?

–

"What do you mean she is injured again?" Enjolras had a worried look on his face as he quickly made his way to the cafe, "How did anyone even manage to get in there? How did they know she was there?"

Joly's face was pale, for truthfully, he had no idea, "Her father poses a threat to her safety. He always does," an idea struck Joly then. His face slowly gained back its color, "I think I have an idea..."

–

Eponine had been in and out of consciousness for the past hour. Grantaire had been waiting patiently with her for Joly. She didn't seem to be falling out of consciousness because of head-injury, so he presumed she was just physically tired. He wasn't sure. But she didn't have that... deathly look about her.

"How long does it take to get here from the University?" Eponine groaned out in a daze. She was half-asleep, but more so on the awake side, "When he gets here, I'm going to..." her voice faded in a heat of murmurers. Grantaire found that he found it rather cute the way that she ranted about Enjolras at times. Over the past while, she'd done more complaining about him and his 'tardiness' than he'd ever heard anyone complain about anything. If she could find a good topic, she could probably talk it to death in a debate, but still win.

It wasn't long after that that the door burst open. Enjolras looked like hell itself, but for some reason, that made Grantaire smile a bit. He had to have been right about his original found inkling of his friend's feelings. With that, he stood up, "I need to go get myself a good drink after all of this mess. Joly, join me when you are done," he said with a grin.

Joly grinned a little, "Fine, but if I die from that disgusting substance you drink, you will rue the day," he was in the midst of looking at Eponine's stomach and up to her rib cage. He sighed a bit, "It isn't looking good. If she can't get it healed there is so much that can happen – so many different kinds of infections," he then looked to Enjolras, "If things like this keep happening, she could break certain ribs, could puncture a lung, die of blood loss."

Enjolras nodded and Eponine just looked up at him, confused as to why he looked as if he were pondering something, "I'll be fine, Joly," Eponine pipped up, "I just need to go unnoticed more, is all," they were already doing so much for her. If they didn't anything else... She didn't like to be pitied. She was a strong woman.

Joly was about to say something, but Enjolras interrupted him, "I want you to come live with me," his sentence came out rushed and the silence that accompanied it afterward made it even worse.

Eponine was stunned, "What?" she asked, confused. Why would he want me to live with him? He doesn't like me... does he? Oh, God, what if he loves me? But I still love Marius. I do... don't I? She had the nagging question in the back of her mind. Did she really feel that way for someone who abandoned her?

"I mean," he cleared his throat a little, "You would be safer there. You can heal and you'd be better in no time. I can help you find honest work and then perhaps things will get better for you." Enjolras seemed to be rambling, but it was those ramblings that caused Eponine's eyes to water. Would he really do all of that for her?

She felt her chest clench a little, which caused her to cough. But when Enjolras frantically tried to go to her, she lifted her hand, "I'm fine," she said as she adjusted her breathing, but she was smiling. She didn't know what to do though. She didn't want to be pitied, but she didn't want to die. She didn't want to invade and be a nuisance to Enjolras, but she didn't want to have all of this happen again. She bit her lip. If she was going to go along with it, then she'd need to repay him somehow.

"'Ponine, please don't make me beg," his voice was low. She wasn't used to seeing Enjolras like this. He was so frantic, so disorganized. The stoic, argumentative man she knew looked as though he were about to get on his knees for her. It was so uncharacteristic. She felt as though she wanted to slap him and make him yell at her for being so reckless.

She wanted him to argue with her, trying to force her to submit to his point. She was a bit flabbergasted by this feeling, but it didn't fade, "Enjolras, you need to think about what you are saying. Me live in your flat?" she pursed her lips, "It would look bad on you to have a woman staying in your home, first of all, and then... I don't want to take advantage of you." She hadn't realized by then that Joly and Grantaire had seemingly left the room.

"Who says you will? I am inviting you, after all," now this is what she wanted to be doing. A good argument. Perhaps he could read her mind, "Besides, you know I don't care about public image. If anything, having that image would make me seem flawed. Everyone has something to hide, and a woman around the house isn't the worst kind of rumor." he grinned then, "We can even have lively debates. All the debates you want," he practically waved the idea in her head. She knew he could tell how much she actually enjoyed it. She always seemed so butt-hurt during it, especially when they are arguing about her feelings, but at the same time, she always felt so invigorated. She felt like she actually had a bit of power. It was just enough to content her. To feel as though she had a voice.

"You make a tempting argument, Enji," her voice was a bit flirty, "But what of the days when you are off at school? What then? I wouldn't wish to," she paused. What was that word people were always using? "intrude while you are away."

"Well then, I'd just have to take you with me every once in a while, won't I?" he'd take her to school with him? Was he mad? Surely he must be. But there was something about it that interested her, his behavior was so... She couldn't put her finger on it, but she was sure it would come to her later.

"Are you sure you could even handle me?" Eponine wasn't sure if the question came out flirty or as actual point, but it was already out there, so it wasn't as if she could so anything about it now.

"Then it is settled," Enjolras then made a mental note to himself to ask Joly about setting Eponine up with a visit to Musichetta to perhaps fashion her something more appropriate for wear. Perhaps he could tame the shrew yet, "It is still early, why don't we get you settled over at my flat and then get a bite to eat."

It was then Eponine was a little struck, "You are actually serious..." her voice was a little louder than a whisper.

"Have you ever known me to be anything but?" his question was rhetorical, but it didn't change the fact that everything was happening, and so fast. Perhaps things were going to start looking up at last?

* * *

I truly didn't know how to write this chapter. I rewrote it at least four times. I think I'm content with how it came out. I hope you are too. :) Exams have been killing me. O.o My AP Chemistry Exam literally had me crying by the end. The acid redox equation was ridiculous. I wanted to stab everything. At least the thermochem questions weren't bad... urgh. Shoot me now. Tomorrows exams are at least easy. Oh, the life of a senior. Just let me graduate now. **sigh**


	6. Mon Histoire

Chapter 6: Mon Histoire

**Setting: The beginning of this chapter takes place pre-story-line. It will end back in the present. **

What day was it? For the moment, he truly didn't know. He was too absorbed in his book to really care, to be honest. As he stared down to the pages, he seemed almost content. If he could go through life with just a good book in his hands to stimulate his mind, then surely he wouldn't need anything else. But the fact of the matter was, no matter how much he enjoyed the dreamland of his books, there was something out there that was calling for him. An alternate reality could not sate this yearning to do something meaningful. Perhaps it was a stage of adolescence – finding identity, as it were.

He was of the age of twenty and one and he often wondered if, like his father had told him, he'd change. If he'd had the same personality, same interests, and same perception since his youngest days, then how could he possibly change? He wasn't interested in women. He wasn't interested in men, as much as his mother often suspected he was. He was interested in bringing peace to the conflicted word he lived in. So that maybe, after he's changed a few lives for the better, he could finally live in the dreamland of his books without feeling so empty.

As he finally pulled his mind away from the page he was so absorbed in, he looked around the Cafe Musain. It was such an average night. Nothing pulled his attention in the slightest. He could see Grantaire in the middle of the bar, attempting to pull the attention of a few pretty women. He could easily tell that they were the few girls that seemed to tag along at meetings, batting their eyes as if they actually understood the tyranny they live under.

He then took a moment to notice Marius and a few others he didn't immediately recognize the names of at a table not far from Grantaire. They seemed to be in a heated debate about something. Knowing them, it was probably something to do with the economy or the impoverished. They didn't like to speak of the rulers, it wasn't their style. They wanted to know how to change things within the system they already knew.

It was then an unfamiliar face seemed to dance across the room. Wearing a tan overcoat and a dark hat, the boy seemed to have a very feminine face, nearly too feminine. He squinted a little, trying to gauge exactly what he was looking at.

The boy was handing Marius a note, a little grin on his face. Almost as if he was happy to be doing Marius' bidding. He then became curious. A curiosity that had not been piqued in a long time. Enjolras found himself wondering then for what reason Marius would have a woman dressed as a man for. He wondered if there was something he should be aware of. It was a bad habit, of course. Enjolras had once been of poorer working class, that is, until his father took a risky business deal and then ended up on the better side of Paris. Perhaps that had been it. Perhaps that is why the poor seemed to rile him up and make him want to help them. He was once one of them, after all.

As the woman began to fade off into the other end of the crowd and to the door, he wondered if he would see her again. He wondered if she'd ever show what was hiding beneath that guise. Perhaps that was a dangerous thought.

But it lead him straight to her.

Every night she'd come, she'd talk to Marius and then she'd flit away, never to be seen till the next night. Had Marius acquired a mistress? No. Marius was too obvious about his feelings. He also seemed to be more respectful of females than most others were during this time. He was not her lover. But perhaps she was his. How sad. How unrequited.

He often wondered why her presence seemed to catch him at the most bothersome of times. It was as if he could feel her presence from miles away. He could sense when she'd draw near. Instinctively, he'd stop what he was doing just to get a look. He now longed to see her face. He wanted to understand and know what made Marius so special as to have her come to him each and every night. Perhaps he was slowly shifting towards a lonely stage. Perhaps it was all in his head. Was it?

It was then one night that she came in. She bore no male clothing. She wore no hat. She wore tattered clothing, the clothing of a poor gamin, and a black eye. He didn't know why it bothered him so, but he nearly wanted to ask what had happened. He wanted to heal it. He wanted to hurt that bastard that inflicted it upon her.

It was not long after that, that this woman came stumbling over to him. Surely God must be playing a trick upon him. Placing the object of his fancy directly in front of him? How cruel. He looked up at the girl, analyzing her face. She had these beautiful, chocolate, almond-shaped eyes. Her face was round and seemed to have a thin layer of dirt of a sorts marking it. Her hair was tangled to a degree that it looked as though she hadn't had a proper bath or brushing at the very least in months. Her waist was incredibly small, almost too small. She was obviously malnourished.

When she spoke, he took note of how her lips moved. They were dry, he could tell. It made him want to – "Monsieur? Your friend Marius wants your-"

He cut her off suddenly, "Marius can't do his own bidding?"

She grinned then, a sad one, "Apparently not," her voice was playful.

This is dangerous, he thought to himself. I cannot let myself be distracted like this, "Well then, Mademoiselle, I'll just have to go over there and give Marius a good fisticuff in your name. Of course that would imply that I know your name of course, Mademoiselle." Was this what it was like to be... flirty? His voice was so smooth. He didn't at all understand what was going on with his body.

"Eponine Thenardier, Monsieur," she grinned then, this time a happy one, "And yours?"

"Antoine Enjolras," already giving out your christian name, Enjolras? You have gone mad, "But I'm mostly called, Enjolras" he explained.

"An-j-ras? Ahn-jeol... Ahn-jee! There, that's much easier," her smile was brilliant. Like that of a thousand stars.

That night, he found himself thinking of her. Only of her. By the stars, he wanted her by his side. He wanted her to help him bring balance to the world.

Then, little by little, they continued to talk. The girl, Eponine, didn't like to talk much of her past or her living condition. She was more concerned about how to help others. The more they learned about each other, the more comfortable they became in each other's presence. From there, the debates started. They were usually about simple things, like things they'd observe about each other. Then it got more complicated. After a while, their main debate was of the only thing that had ever bothered him. It was the only thing that caught him from the start – Marius. Why did she choose _him,_ of all people? Didn't she know that there were so many men who would die to have her even cast her gaze upon them? Or perhaps that was just himself.

He had fallen in so deep. He didn't know where he'd gone, but something had changed. He just couldn't tell if it was yet for the better.

Now, she was in his home. Now, he could keep her safe. Now, perhaps he could show her that there are those who will want to protect her. She would never be on her own.

* * *

This was a bit of a mini-chapter, but I felt as though I wanted to delve into the young rebel's mind. The first scene is from before he decided upon his cause and then as it gets progressively further it gets into the present time of the story. I felt this information would be necessary for later. :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I have a four-day weekend, so you can expect another update soon. :DD I've never received this kind of response from fics, so its a happy change. So, do review, they really do motivate me to keep going


	7. Musichetta

Chapter 7: Musichetta

He stood outside her door that morning, thinking it almost cute as she slept in. It was a lose-lose situation in his mind. He'd either wake her up and see a grumpy face or let her sleep in, and be late to get breakfast with Courfeyrac. Hmm... the possibilities.

She began to stir, nearly as if she'd felt a presence. She sat up quickly, looking around as if she was taken by surprise by armed attackers, "Where...?" her voice was confused, her eyes reflected the same. This made Enjolras laugh a bit. He wondered if she'd ever adjust to being here.

"I have kidnapped you and now you shall be my minion," his voice mimicked a creepy, evil laugh and then shook his head, "Courfeyrac wants to get some breakfast and suggested we meet him at his flat. Joly did say you need more exercise," he reminded her.

As he did, she plopped back against the bed. She looked confused still, "So, it wasn't all just a dream," she looked both relieved and perhaps a bit scared, "I was sure I was about to wake up back on the street again. Why..." she paused and then sat up. She groaned a little and clutched her side, "These ribs are a nuisance. And this soft bed is making my hard skin all soft," she looked back up at him, "What is your plan for me, dear Monsieur? I still haven't figured it out yet."

Enjolras chuckled a bit at her cryptic talk. Often, he found, she was like this in the mornings. Had it really been an entire week since she'd come? It had seemed like months, he was practically used to it now, "Don't fret, I'm sure we'll both figure that out eventually." Of course, he felt as though she constantly asked that question. What is your plan? It was second though to, How can I repay you? The words seemed to fall off her lips like they were natural, "Now, do you need me to help you dress, or do you think you've got it by now?"

Eponine hid her face, "You know how much it embarrasses me that you had to do any of that," she seemed to be blushing. Another thing he had noticed was how the pink seemed to come back to her cheeks. Her face, once pale and dirty, was now cleaner and pinker. She looked so much more alive. Though, her hair was still unruly as ever. That, he was sure, was just something it naturally did. Though the curls did seem to be more in tact rather than tangled.

–

When Enjolras finally left the room, Eponine let out a large sigh. How had it come to this? How had she gotten here? She still didn't know. It was as if she'd been doing this her whole life.

She sighed as she then remembered the night before. He'd said he'd take her to see a close friend of his to see about getting her some 'proper' clothing. She groaned a little. Even as a female, she didn't even really like clothing. He wouldn't even consider letting her just clean her original clothing. No, he just _had_ to suggest something new. Personally, she wouldn't mind just never wearing clothing. It got in the way to begin with.

She dressed herself into a rather large dress. It was quite possibly more than three sizes too big, but she made it work. She cinched a belt around it to bring it into place. It was disgustingly feminine. If one wanted to get around in a man's world, they had to dress like a man. It was a known fact, but she'd go along with this, anyway.

She looked in the mirror, confused at the reflection of the face staring back at her. She didn't often get to really see herself. What did she look like? Perhaps without all the scars, she would have been as much of a beauty as Cosette... perhaps.

She shook her head. She didn't want to be thinking of Marius right now. He wasn't worth it. Not after the way he ignored her when he found Cosette. _When he gets bored of her, we'll see who is sorry... _

–

After a rather uneventful eating with Courfeyrac, they made their way over to a part of town she didn't immediately recognize. She had, perhaps once, strolled along these parts. Being in unfamiliar territory bothered her, even scared her slightly.

"We're rather close to a good friend of mine's place. I'm sure you'll like her. She grew up much like you, you could say." Enjolras had this look about him that seemed to glow. He seemed so... happy? It was a strange look to see up close. She was so used to a scowl, a playful grin, a smirk, even a simple, plain facial expression to grace his features. This one was a new look. It made her feel strange inside. Like she wanted to take his hand and smile back. This urge startled her.

As the walked up to a little boutique, Eponine felt a bit anxious. She was suddenly so conscious of herself and her appearance. What if she embarrassed herself? Too many variables for her to feel comfortable.

The boutique they entered was filled with fabrics. There were so many different shades, patterns, and textures. It astounded her. A woman of average, though rather curvy build, made her way to the front of the shop. She was dressed very lady-like in style, yet she still seemed... mysterious. Perhaps it was just her eyes that made her seem that way.

"Monsieur Enjolras, it is good to see you again," She smiled at Enjolras, but her eyes were immediately drawn to Eponine. She felt uncomfortable as it seemed the woman was sizing her up, "Is this to be my project for the day?" her smile turned into a more casual grin. It seemed to lighten her nerves a little. Until...

Wait, project? Eponine looked up to Enjolras as if to say, "What the hell is she talking about?" but he just grinned at her a playful grin that seemed to speak, "You'll see in time." She wanted to groan, but refrained from doing so.

After a few minutes of conversation exchange between the woman and Enjolras, he departed for class. When he did so, the woman had realized that she hadn't introduced herself, "Pardon moi, Mademoiselle, I never told you my name! Don't call me Madam, I'm not married or old, so I won't have any of that. You may call me, Musichetta."

As if to test it on her lips, Eponine tried to say the name, "Moo-C-shet-tah... Musichetta," she smiled a bit then, "Je regret, mais I am usually terrible with pronouncing names," she chuckled then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad... right?

–

Enjolras was a bit nervous as he made his way back to the boutique after school. Musichetta always had this way of making everything she touched more... he couldn't describe it. It was as if she knew exactly which features to define, what colors look best on what. She was an amazing artist. She would've thrived in many a place. Sadly, her talents were much wasted on this side of Paris. Her costumers were usually so vain and unoriginal with their requests. It made her job much less... exciting. But she seemed to love it regardless.

As he entered the shop, all he could hear was laughter. So much laughter. It startled him at first. He cleared his throat and began to say something, when a figure ran by rather quickly.

"No! If you poke me with that needle one more time, Chetta, I swear, you won't hear the end of it!" was that Eponine's voice? He had never heard it so blissfully cheerful before.

"But, Eppie, we have to finish the last few stitches!" Musichetta was about to race after her when she noticed Enjolras standing awkwardly in the room, "Oh? Come to take her from me so soon? You cannot hog her to yourself you know!" he was suddenly glad he had taken Eponine here. It meant that she would have another good friend to spend time with. It was another step forward. Even after she reovers, he has no plans of letting her leave anyhow. If she made more friends close by, she might even want to stay. The thought relieved him.

"Eh, is Enji back from the University already?" Eponine poked her head out from behind a manikin, "Does this mean we're leaving? That's no fun," she seemed to pout.

Enjolras was taken aback from the looks of Eponine. She was dressed in a plain, red dress with blue accents. Her hair was half-up, with lazy curls to frame her face. It vaguely reminded him of a painting he once saw long ago. It was a painting he'd come to cherish as an image to fight for. She was a spitting image of his imagined Patrie. He tried to form words, but found that he couldn't.

"What?" Eponine started and backed up once more behind the manikin, "Do I look that terrible?" she looked down at herself, as if she were over conscious again.

"You are beautiful," he said quickly, not meaning for it to come out as desperate and longing as it did. But he felt desperate for something he couldn't quite grasp. He felt his blood rushing, his heart beat quickening. It was like the first time he'd seen her with Marius. His eyes were glued to her and he felt as though he needed to do something, he just didn't know what.

Eponine was startled by his statement. He thought she was beautiful? She can't remember the last time someone had spoken words like that to her? Well, in a way that was meaningful – Monteparnasse didn't count in any way, "Merci," she said softly, staring at him with curious eyes.

Musichetta decided to break the moment by clearing her throat, "So," she started, trying to ease the tension, "I have finished sewing a nightdress, four casual daytime dresses, and a slightly more formal gown," she smiled happily, "Though, I am not charging you. This was completely on the house. If I could, I think I'd adopt her. She is so sweet and a real pleasure to have around," she then made a stern face, "If you hurt her in anyway, I'll make sure that you lack the necessary organs to produce children."

The end of her sentence made Enjolras flinch a little, "You have been hanging around with Joly too much, Chetta, with all your talk of organs," if anyone looked closely, he would seem to have a slight blush.

–

As they made their way back to his flat, Eponine was a bit conscious of the stares she got down the road. It was unusual to be noticed. She had survived by being unnoticed, nonexistent. Now, it would seem she wouldn't be able to do such. She only prayed that no one she immediately recognized would see her.

"You all right there, 'Ponine?" a voice called to her. It was Enjolras. Of course it was Enjolras. She began to wonder then why he was doing so much for her. They were good friends, some could even say they were best friends, but it felt so... foreign to her.

"I'm well," she said as she reached for the door leading into his flat, "I am just glad to be unseen again."

To that, Enjolras laughed, "You know, you haven't gone unnoticed your whole life. I can tell you for a fact you've been noticed every single day for the past year."

Eponine wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he didn't say anything regarding it afterwards, so she let it slip from her mind. She wondered if it would be like this everyday. She hoped not. After all, she, like her brother, could never stay in one place for too long unless necessary. How long would it be before she was just another girl on the street once more? She then began to wonder if that was even what she wanted anymore.

* * *

Hey, sorry this chapter took forever. I started writing it immediately after seeing the success with last chapter, but... Personal problems got in the way. Such as it is when you realize after a painfully realistic dream that you are, and probably have been for 2 and a half years, in love with your best friend. This chapter was also a bit hard to write just because last chapter was so... it just seemed to flow right out of me so easily. I hope this lived up to your expectations and hopefully the next chapter will be more to your liking if not. Afterall, this chapter is more of a filler for more to come into play later. What is insignificant now could be significant later. :) Also, tips for future success always help, so leave a review.


	8. Unexpected (Prelude)

Author's Note: Hello, all. I'm so sorry I haven't posted in what seems like forever, but I've had a bit of a reality check. Being a high school Senior, I've been busy getting in my apps as well as signing up for auditions (I'm going to be a vocal performance major), so this month is doomed to be hectic. I have my Vocal Competition on Tuesday, then district choir, along with All-state auditions right after. Then I have the musical, and right in the middle is my VCU audition. Then right after my musical, I have my LU audition and then my Shenandoah Conservatory audition. February is not going to be a kind month to me, so don't expect additions readily. With the bulk of my AP classes, I have enough writing to last me a year, I feel like. My goal is to have the chapter after this one out by next week, though, so hopefully that'll work out. :)

Chapter 8: Unexpected (Prelude)

Another day, another dawning of the new morning. How long had it been since her first day in this place? At least a fortnight. It was boring her to tears. The only thing that would save her during the day-time was Musichetta, and though her constant chatter about Jolly was a little overbearing, it was all she had while Enjolras attended school or a meeting or whatever else he needed to do. This morning, however, was a little different.

She woke up in a rush. It felt as though she had been falling when she woke? What time was it? As she looked out the window to her room, she sighed. It wasn't even morning yet. Perhaps it would be soon.

She sat up and stretched her arms out a bit, rolling her shoulders back. Her ribs felt so much better than they had two weeks prior, in fact, everything felt better. She had grown so used to constant pain that it was as though she'd never known what it was like to feel... right? Well?

A dim light caught her eye. The main room was hardly a few feet from her door. She wondered if Enjolras had fallen asleep reading again. She felt as though it was all too usual for him to fall asleep with a book in his palm, or, rather, on his face. To see him without his literature of political idealism would be to question the coming about of Armageddon.

She stood up on an impulse, but was surprised by the weight of her feet, nearly causing her to stumble. She chuckled a little to herself and shook her head. She was losing her stealth. Instead of dwelling on her stumble, she continued toward her door to peak out into the living room. As she expected, Enjolras was fast asleep in his chair. For a careful man, he was rather nonchalant about the candle he still had lit. She shook her head and turned her attention to the book in his hand. He had been reading a book of poetry, as opposed to his usual novel by authors she did not recognize. Though, the more she stared at it, the less... book-like it seemed? It looked more like a journal than a book. A book usually had some form of art on the cover. The one Enjolras held was certainly not. It wasn't until she saw the long forgotten pen on the floor that she realized that this was more than just a book of poetry. It was, perhaps, Enjolras' book of poetry.

She had to stop then. Wait, Enjolras writes poetry? Since when? Sure the man was passionate, but a writer too? She began to wonder what he wrote about. Perhaps that is why it made sense. Perhaps he wrote of his revolution. Perhaps he used it as a technique for venting his frustrations. She became rather curious then. She had to know.

The woman of my dreams,

how she sits so still before me.

This woman, with eyes so tender and green.

Dare I speak her name?

Dare I question her evasive nature?

She is the epitome of perfection

and yet...

He stopped writing there. The scribbles of words continued on the next page.

Battles on the field,

battles upon a stage,

battles in the cafe,

fueled with steam and rage.

They think us young,

they think us afraid,

but we'll show them the mistake they've made-

but then she looks at me

pinning me against my will.

Shall I fight for her?

Shall I stand still?

My heart cannot bare it,

the look in her eyes.

She knows I'll soon be leaving,

perhaps without good bye.

Is it deceitful?

Is it so wrong?

To pine for this woman,

so loving and strong.

The embodiment of my country,

or that which I wish her to be,

my dear Patrie, perhaps you are not the only one for me.

She couldn't continue reading. She placed the book down on the nightstand beside Enjolras' chair. Who was this woman he was so desperately in love with? Did he really hide it so well? Her love for Marius had been so obvious, but Enjolras? How did he do it, she wondered. But the better question, one she almost didn't want to know the answer of, was who this woman was. Was she the reason he was always gone for so long after school? She felt a ping in her chest, a clenching feeling. No, she wasn't jealous. She couldn't be. Enjolras wasn't hers...

Instead of lingering there in a pit of rage, Eponine snuck one last glance at Enjolras before first blowing out the light of the candle and then heading back to her room. She hoped she could fall back asleep.

–

Had he fallen asleep? So soon? As he looked about the living room, he seemed to be in a daze. What had he been doing last night.

The poetry! He looked around, trying to locate his book. He was relieved when it was just next to him on the nightstand. He would be mortified if anyone had ever read what was in the book. It was a place for him to release his thoughts. He wasn't ready for anyone to see what really went on inside his head.

He stared then to Eponine's room. It was so quiet. A little too quiet for his liking. He was rather surprised she hadn't come and woken him up yet. Or, perhaps he hadn't woken too late.

Coincidentally, as he thought about her, she emerged from her room, her hair a mess. He loved the way it tangled in the morning, how she looked so wild and yet so beautiful. Unlike the many women he had often had to spent time with in his younger days, she had such a natural beauty about her. Some days, he would slip off into a daydream, sharing with her everything that he felt about her. Alas, he was... just not that kind of man. He couldn't forsake everything he'd worked so hard to put into place. He recalled then what Comberferre had told him earlier the night before:

Women: They make you rethink every decision you have ever made. It is a good thing you are such a statue, otherwise we'd fear our cause!

They cheered and laughed then, but inwardly, all he could think about was how much he wanted to hold her. He wanted to show her the new France. He wanted to give to her a chance for a better life. It, rather than diminishing his resolve, strengthened it. It was as if he had something tangible then, rather than figurative, to fight for.

As he watched her from across the way, he couldn't help but take notice of her rosy cheeks. She didn't often blush when they made eye-contact, but he didn't take much mind to it. Instead he then turned to the kitchen to brew some tea for the both of them. He wondered if this would be just another average day for them both.

* * *

A/N: This is just the prelude to this chapter. I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to write the next part, but it is going to be long. I figured, if I have to break it up into two parts, it might as well be here. Things are about to bubble to a first climax (it isn't the finale though). I have planned 7 more chapters. :) I'll see you next chapter. Do review. It keeps me fueled for writing. :D


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